


All You Have to Do

by noggin_the_nog



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Smut, a bit of pining, naughty roger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noggin_the_nog/pseuds/noggin_the_nog
Summary: Rose, a political correspondent for The Times newspaper in Britain is assigned the job of following Queen on tour in America. She’s looking forward to a new adventure and the opportunity to admire their lead guitarist up close.. but a certain blonde haired drummer has different ideas.This will lead to smut eventually. I imagine Roger as Roger here but if you’re more into Ben as Roger then imagine away to your heart’s content dear friends. Similarly with Brian and Gwilym. All options are good to me!





	1. Chapter 1

She’d taken the call from her editor in London after finally making it back from a long and frustrating press conference with President Carter’s Press secretary. The line was fuzzy and she had to concentrate on what the transatlantic voice was saying. 

“Look at it as a paid holiday Rose, you’ve done a great job out there covering the new president - it may be important and great for your career but it’s hardly exciting now is it?” His tone was persuasive and she had to admit - the endless roundabout of political policy and rooms full of grey men in grey suits was taking its toll. 

But did that mean she wanted to spend the next few weeks caught up in the equally crazy circus of a rock band’s North American tour? It really wasn’t her scene - she was out here trying to impress as a serious political correspondent not trailing round with a group of rock and roll divas.....

“Look Andrew, let me think about it overnight - I’m exhausted and it’s not really appealing to be honest but I’ll give it due consideration I promise.” She finished the call and retired to a hot bath with a hot drink. 

As Rose let the stresses of the day leave her tired body, she ran through the proposition again. Would it really be all that bad? She liked Queen’s music and they were out here breaking new ground for a british rock band - writing an extended piece on their tour would be a new angle for her journalistic skills.... not to mention that they were known for some pretty wild parties. Maybe it would do her good to let her hair down for a while. 

As the steam relaxed her muscles even further, the heat warming her to her core, a thought of a different nature surfaced in her consciousness. Following Queen on tour would also allow her to indulge in some up close ogling of Brian May. She’d had a crush on him since first seeing them on Top of the Pops. Something about the length of his legs and the ridiculously attractive narrowness of his hips.... yes that was definitely a big plus point of accepting her editor’s offer....

———————————-

The first meeting with the band had gone well- only Freddie and John were there. They were charming, self-effacing and keen to be as accommodating as possible. John shyly astonished that a major british newspaper would want to spend so much time and effort on them and Freddie calmly accepting that such interest was the most natural thing in the world. 

“John darling, of course The Times wants to get in on our success - they can’t be seen to be missing out on such musical magnificence!” Freddie admonished his bandmate with a smile. He turned back to her, 

“So that’s all agreed then, yes? You’ll cover all aspects of band life on the road making us sound like musical geniuses and gloriously naughty boys at the same time?” Freddie’s grin was joyful. 

“I’m not sure about the last bit Fred,” stuttered John, looking anxiously at his lead singer, “We want to be taken seriously by people who read The Times arts section.”  
Rose felt a growing connection with John and his humble desire to make music that people respected; she felt the same way about her writing. 

“Rubbish Deacy, people who read The Times arts section are just as interested in what we get up to in the wee hours as they are in what frequency your amp resonates at.” Freddie said with a twinkle. He turned back to Rose, “In fact, we’re having a small soirée tomorrow night at the Hotel Parisienne - it’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to plunge right in at the deep end...”. She could hear the wicked inflection in the singer’s tone and experienced a momentary panic at what she might be getting herself into. 

On their way out, Freddie turned back to her once more, “Oh and darling, wear something delicious, we can’t have you turning up looking like a BBC employee.”

————————————————————-

After a last minute shopping trip, Rose had found her way to the Hotel Parisienne dressed in embroidered, peacock blue flares and a silvery top that had the most amazing bell sleeves. The outfit had been expensive and she guiltily wondered if it had been wrong to charge it to the newspaper’s account. Still, she felt confident that it would help her feel the part of a music journalist at a terribly exclusive party. Whether Freddie would count it as ‘delicious ‘ or not remained to be seen. 

Inside, the party was exactly as she had imagined it would be; loud, drunken and difficult to totally enjoy when you didn’t know anyone. She’d dutifully circulated and chatted with all the VIP’s; Jim Beech and John Reid were wary of her Times credentials but keen for her to see the band’s success. John Deacon had personally made it his business to make sure she knew who was who and what was where - an unlikely rock star but a total treasure. 

Midway through the evening she was swept into an enthusiastic embrace, “Rose darling, you do look delicious! My my! I’m rather envious of those trousers myself dear girl.” Freddie was slightly flushed with champagne and clearly loving his role as reveller in chief. “Have you met everybody?” He asked, “Have those pesky band mates of mine bothered to come meet you yet? I know dear John has been playing mother hen showing you round.” His dark eyes traveled round the immediate vicinity in search of the elusive fifty percent of Queen. 

“Goodness knows what Roger’s up to, or who Roger is up I should imagine” he cackled with mirth, Rose blushed, not sure what to say in reply to this reference to the band’s infamous play boy. Freddie seemed unaware of her discomfort and gaily carried on, “Oh look, there’s dear Brian boring the pants off people no doubt,” he gestured towards a group of people who were all looking intently at one of their number, “why don’t you do them a favour and go and rescue them from a lecture on the finer points of horse-head nebulae.” with that, Freddie disappeared into the crowd leaving Rose looking towards where Brian was holding court. 

All her professional confidence left her in a girlish flutter, there was no way she could go over there and interrupt. Brian stood head and shoulders above everyone he was talking to, from where she was standing, leaning against a narrow counter that ran part way down the room, she had a perfect view of the lead guitarist. 

He was explaining something to the group using his hands to illustrate his words, long, long slender fingers and toned forearms describing shapes in the air. It was impossible not to imagine what else those fingers could do. Brian had the typical tall-man stoop, angling his head and shoulders closer to those he was speaking to so as to minimise the height difference. In him, Rose mused, it only served to highlight the lovely length of his body. His striped shirt was unbuttoned to show his collar bones and the pale skin of his chest and his black velvet flares made his thighs look even longer than normal. 

Yup, she said to herself, that man ticked all her boxes: tall, dark haired, intelligent, talented. He seemed to have more than his fair share of those attributes in fact! She stayed leaning against the counter, champagne in hand, enjoying the intense look on Brian’s face as he talked, his sensitive mouth and dark curls reminding her of a pre-raphaelite prince. 

“So, what chance have I got in diverting your attention away from that lanky git?” a voice said behind her. Rose jumped slightly, cringing at having been caught so obviously staring at Brian. She turned, eyes wide, to find Roger Taylor watching her with an eyebrow raised in question and his lips pursed in a confident smirk.


	2. Part 2

The first thought that Rose was aware of was that he was taller than she expected - she guessed that was because she was used to seeing him sitting at a drum kit or standing next to Brian. Sure he was as rail thin as she’d always thought but definitely not a short man. 

She gave herself some thinking time by giving him a slow look up and down- tight, low slung black trousers and a pale shirt that clung around his arms and waist and was also mostly undone. An unholy amount of golden skin on show - she could almost see his navel. 

“You can give it your best shot.” She replied with a smile. His grin was wolffish and he joined her in leaning against the bar.   
“Please tell me you fancy him because he’s musical, british and is a bachelor of science,” he said, “if it’s because he’s tall, curly and unhealthily obsessed with space, I’m screwed.” She couldn’t help but laugh, his honesty was disarming. 

“Maybe it’s all of those things.” She replied, looking back at the guitarist. 

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t win you over?” he asked, topping up her glass of champagne. She turned her gaze back on to the man in front of her; she’d never really considered him before, Brian was so much her type she looked no further when it came to Queen. Her mental image of Roger was that he was good looking (she figured that was generally accepted by the whole population) but not really what she found most attractive. She took the time now to really look at him. 

His blonde hair grazed his collar bones, its colour, coupled with the high cheekbones and delicate jaw, lent him an angelic look. His mouth and eyes were almost obscenely sensual and his hands rivalled Brian’s in their slender strength. She had to admit it - he was beautiful- and he was smiling at her in a way that left her in no doubt that he knew exactly what effect he had on people. 

It helped her regain a little professionalism- there was no way she could succumb to one of the band’s advances the first time she met them. But- she could certainly enjoy Roger’s company for a while; it would be great to begin getting to know her journalistic subjects a little better. 

“Ok, you have my attention, why not tell me all about the plans for the tour?” She said, taking a long sip of champagne. He obliged, detailing their plans with many witty asides - and she was, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, utterly charmed by him. It was obvious how he had managed to claim the playboy tag.

“Now it’s your turn,” Roger smirked, “I want to know more about the girl who’s gonna be writing about me.” He asked all about her job, her hopes; how she had ended up with them when she usually reported on politics. Rose was suddenly very aware of his focus on her - his body angled towards her and those twinkling eyes holding contact with hers. It felt almost intimate. 

“So how did you know who I was?” She asked him, “no one introduced us.” 

His smiled, “Freddie pointed you out.” he replied before leaning in closer and saying in a much softer voice, “Although he certainly didn’t mention beforehand that you were quite so beautiful.” She had had to lean in as well to catch this and they were now only inches from each other. 

“So how am I doing so far?” he asked softly, “You haven’t glanced at Legs Eleven over there for ages.” 

She had to agree - her attention was solely on the blonde in front of her and the chemistry he was stirring up between them. “Well Mr Taylor, you certainly know how to make a girl feel like the most important person in the room.” she replied. 

“But...?” he prompted, seeing that she was stepping away from the cosy bubble they were in. 

“Well, you see... I’m here in a professional capacity and I’m not really that ... “ she started but he interrupted;

“Kind of girl?” he closed the distance between them again, lowering his voice to a soft rasp that meant she had to stay close to him to hear. “But that’s not how this is going to go, this isn’t about me picking up a girl and screwing her in the toilets - I’m not gonna treat you like a groupie.” 

Rose’s breath caught in her throat at the image he conjured and he, the intuitive bastard, noticed; “Unless you want me to of course?” He waited for an answer.

“Roger, I really shouldn’t....” She didn’t know how to continue. He took charge again, “Hey, let me tell you how it’ll be yeah?” his mouth now right by her ear. She swallowed nervously and nodded, turning to stare into those wicked blue eyes. He smiled and shifted so his lips were hovering at the sensitive juncture of her earlobe and throat.

“You’ll kiss me first, cos you’ll want to know if you’ve picked a boy who can really get you off. And it’ll be slow and wet - it’ll make me moan into your mouth cos it really turns me on that you know what you want and you’re gonna take it from me.” His breath was hot on her neck before he moved away to look her in the eye again and the damp skin cooled tingling. His gaze followed her tongue as she ran it over dry lips. 

“When we’re finally alone, I’m gonna be so hard for you - just from your pretty pink tongue in my mouth.” he whispered in her other ear, “Just from knowing that you’re gonna use all of me to make yourself come.” He shifted again; moving to stand right in front of her, hands on the bar behind her - caging her in. The air was electric between them, Rose’s breath coming fast and shallow. She waited for him to continue, teeth pulling on her lower lip. 

“Eyes open Rosie.” he rasped, her eyes snapped open - she hadn’t really realised they were closed she was so involved in the fantasy he was describing. His clever mouth curved into that devilish grin once again. She knew he could tell exactly what he was doing to her but couldn’t bring herself to care. 

His mouth was back at her ear, “You can have me however you want me. Propped up against the headboard so that when you’re all up on me my mouth is on your beautiful breasts.” She gasped at that, feeling her nipples tighten, pressing against the thin fabric of her top. “You’ll be able to feel me everywhere you need me darling. My mouth on yours, my hands on your chest, teasing those sensitive nipples.” His voice dropped even lower, she could almost feel the vibrations on her skin, “My swollen, throbbing cock far enough inside you that you can feel it in your stomach.” Roger’s breath hitched as he said this last. Their eyes locked onto each other, breathing in tandem. 

It suddenly dawned on Rose that he wasn’t, and hadn’t, even touched her. Yet here they were, hopelessly turned on. Totally unaware of the party continuing around them. Jesus, what might happen if they actually acted on any of this? 

“Go on.” She managed in a voice made husky from desire. She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He leaned in again, his breath on her over sensitive skin sending her nerves into overdrive. “It’ll feel so damn good baby, you impaled on my cock. We’ll be so wet where I’m stretching you wide open - fuck“ he couldn’t hold back a small moan. His beautiful face was flushed, eyes gone dark. Rose pressed her thighs together, feeling her pulse between her legs. 

“You’ll grind down on me, my whole cock up in you, your aching clit rubbing against me. I’m gonna want to hear you baby - when it gets so good you can’t ...”

“Roger! Please don’t fuck our new friend on her first night with us.” Freddie’s voice burst their private little bubble. Rose drew in what felt like the first proper breath she’d taken in hours. She watched helplessly as Freddie threw his arm round Roger and pulled him away, loudly berating the blonde for his ‘naughty, naughty’ behaviour. 

Uncomfortably aroused, she turned to pick up her forgotten champagne and downed the rest of it. She felt jittery, mind racing trying to wrench herself back to reality. 

“Hello,” said an impossibly smooth, calm voice, “you must be Rose. it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Brian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think. I know RT is so naughty but so irresistible. 
> 
> I wonder how she’ll deal with meeting Brian after being in such a tizzy!


	3. Three

Later that night, Rose lay in bed running through the evening in her head trying to organise her thoughts. She determinedly ran over the half hour she had spent talking with Brian - how interesting and how interested he had been. How keen to discuss the political situation here in America and to share his experiences of American life so far. 

The guitarist hadn’t lost any of his attractiveness on further acquaintance. His sensitive gaze and gentle voice had gradually soothed her and drawn her in to their conversation to the point where they were totally engrossed. Although, there had been not one hint of flirtation on his part. 

Unlike the drummer, her traitorous mind reminded her. Despite Brian distracting her totally from the state Roger had left her in; now, here, lying in the warm darkness of her hotel room, she couldn’t stop her imagination replaying the whole calamitous episode. How had she got herself into that the first time she met him? Her colleagues back home would be shocked. She was normally professional to the point of being teased about it. 

“For goodness sake,” she said to herself, “it’s not even him you fancy!” 

Hell, who was she kidding? Just remembering that glimpse of toned, lean stomach beneath his open shirt was enough to make her mouth a little dry. The heat in those blue eyes as he had whispered those filthy words against her skin. The desire in his voice as he had described what they would do to each other.....Good grief- she needed to stay on her guard where Mr Roger Taylor was concerned. 

Rose finally fell asleep focusing intently on Brian’s beautiful hands and innocent smile. 

—————————-

The following day was spent making her way through the tour crew getting to know everyone as they packed up ready to move to the next city. She asked what they did, where they fitted in the Queen network and who they were close to. She diligently kept notes in her little pocket book - keen to make a good impression and show she was going to value the contribution everyone made to the roadshow - not just fawn over the band. 

It was fascinating finding out what a complex operation it was to take a rock band on tour. She was impressed to hear that all four band members were involved in all aspects of the rig, the planning and the set up. Not one person had a bad word to say about the boys - even though she heard some eyebrow raising stories of tantrums and rows. It seemed to be accepted by the crew that any disagreements were justified as part of the ‘artistic process’. 

Rose found that the more she found out about Queen, the more she liked them - as Freddie and John said in their first meeting; they were very serious about their music and she really respected that. She could see that their team were loyal and committed - it made the ‘naughty boy’ aspects of their personalities a delightful contrast. 

Towards the end of the day, everything was packed and they were due to hit the road. Rose was unaccountably nervous about being in the tour bus. She knew it would be a gold mine of information and experience for her story but she couldn’t help feeling she would be out of place. Plus, the thought of being in such a confined space with the band for long periods of time was making her feel all sorts of confused. Would she be able to talk to Brian without blushing and mooning over him like an idiot? Would they be irritated by her presence and modify their behaviour accordingly? 

And what might happen if she found herself in close proximity to the blonde drummer again? 

She gave herself a stern talking to; he had only wanted her last night because she was new and he had no one else at the party. He hadn’t got what he wanted then so was unlikely to want a repeat - particularly now she was in the bus with them. She resolved to put the incident behind her. 

————————————————-

As it turned out, she spent the first few hours on the bus talking with John who had again taken it upon himself to make sure she was ok. They sat side by side near the front of the bus discussing his ideas for tuning up the band’s sound for the next show. His knowledge of electronics was way beyond her understanding but he managed to explain the principles for her as she scribbled in her notebook. Him occasionally taking the pencil to add a little diagram to the notes. 

He was such sweet company - not at all what she expected. She was intrigued by the few stories she had heard about him getting wildly drunk - would he let her see that side of him?

He left her as it got fully dark and she curled up in the seat to sleep, watching the dark, foreign landscape stream past the window. 

At a truck stop in the pale,early morning light, Rose stood outside letting the fresh air wake her up. She felt rather than heard the presence suddenly next to her,

“I hope you’re not going to let Deacy hog your attention on the bus every time,” Roger said as he lit a cigarette, “I can be the interesting musician and write intellectual things in your little book as well you know.” She couldn’t help but smile, even though the the thought of being anywhere near him for any length of time made her a little nervous. She wasn’t going to be able to ignore a quarter of the band. Maybe interviewing him about the music might re-set the balance between them - journalist and her subject rather than ..... whatever they had been at the Parisienne. 

“I tell you what,” she replied, without looking at him, “as soon as the opportunity arises, I will closely question you about the finer points of drum tuning and your views on British rock music in the USA.”

He took a long drag on the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs whilst apparently contemplating her suggestion. He turned that heavy lidded gaze on her, smoke curling from his mouth, 

“I think I like the sound of that,” he mused, “specially the ‘closely’ bit.” He winked and headed into the toilets leaving Rose wondering if he was capable of having a conversation that didn’t have sexual undertones. 

—————————————————-

That evening, after a whirlwind of activity, everyone was settled in the large lounge bar of their new hotel. There were small groups of people everywhere- some more raucous than others but all convivial. 

Rose stood at the door, unsure of which group to join until Freddie hailed her and patted the sofa beside him. She made her way towards him, “Just the person I wanted to see!” said Freddie with a toothy grin. “Tuck yourself in here and grab a glass dear girl,I think it time you and i had a little chat - one on one.” he finished with a grin. 

“Don’t look so terrified!” he continued without losing the grin, “it’s in your best interests.” Rose leant back in the sofa, trying to appear more relaxed than she felt; what was he going to say to her?

“Now please don’t take this the wrong way dear, I really am looking out for you - I don’t want you getting upset whilst you’re with us.” Freddie took a long sip of drink, “Roger told me about your little tete a tete at the party.” Rose felt her insides squirm. “He also mentioned how you appear to be enamoured of our dear guitarist.” 

His dark eyes looked at her carefully, assessing her for signs she was about to bolt. She returned his gaze, feeling none of the confidence she was trying to convey,”Does Brian know?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Freddie snorted, “Brian’s hopeless at noticing that sort of thing. It’s not him I’m concerned about.” He fixed her with that intense look again, “Anyway, you know he has someone back home?” She nodded, she had read about the relationship, “I think he’s pretty serious about her.” Freddie continued. “Although he does have a weakness for clever girls....but really, you’re safe with Bri. I’d be astonished to find him whispering dirty nothings in your ear in public.” 

Rose couldn’t help the slight feeling of disappointment in her tummy; she’d known about Brian’s girlfriend anyway and he hadn’t been flirtatious at all when they’d talked, even if she could tell he liked her as a person. She wouldn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s relationship trouble- she liked Brian far too much to risk hurting him. He was just so beautiful and interesting....

Freddie drew her attention back to him with a warm hand on her arm. “We need to talk about Roger,” he said with a kind look, “I love him to pieces but he’s a disaster area in terms of female hearts.” 

“You don’t need to worry about that..” she started, he squeezed her arm and laughed.

“Rose dear, I’ve known Rog long enough to know that I need to worry about most people’s hearts when it comes to him.” The singer sat back on the sofa and crossed his legs. “Roger is wonderful, both in bed and out of it I hear,” she felt her face heat up, “he would never intentionally hurt anyone, but he loves girls so much that it tends to get him into trouble.”

“Now, far be it for me to warn you off him, I just wanted you to have your eyes open.” Freddie smiled kindly at her again, “You are exactly the kind of girl that dear Roger tends to get very focused on shall we say.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, trying not to remember how it had felt to be under that focus....

“Clever, opinionated, independent...” he said, ticking each point off on his fingers, “....and with a truly fantastic pair of tits.” he finished with a wicked grin. 

Rose’s hands flew to her chest in mock offence, “Freddie!” She squealed. He laughed uproariously,

“Well it’s true darling!“ 

The conversation turned to other things and it wasn’t until she got up to head upstairs to bed that Freddie mentioned the drummer again. 

“I meant what I said earlier dear, Roger is determined to have you - whether you let him or not will be entertaining for us all to watch- he’s incapable of being discreet.” 

She finished his heartfelt little speech for him, “But keep my eyes open and don’t fall hopelessly in love with him?” 

He nodded and gave her a conspiratorial wink, blowing her a kiss good night before turning back to the conversation at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise she’ll get some time with Roger (and Brian....) soon 😀😀
> 
> Happy Christmas everyone!


	4. part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo - this is short but I don't want you guys getting bored with the story waiting for updates!! I have the next part more or less planned in my head so it shouldn't be long. Please do leave me a comment - it helps to know which bits you like!

The following day brought the date of the next gig. Rose took the opportunity to leave the crew to set up and headed out into the city. She had been in America for a month now and still marvelled over its differences to back home, the newness of things compared to ancient England. 

She was to watch tonight’s concert from the side of the stage - John had assured her that she’d get the best view of their dynamics from there - and the technicalities of how the ‘sound’ was produced. “You can watch from the audience another time to get a different angle.” he advised her. Rose was excited - she had never seen them live but had heard what a great show it was. 

That evening, she positioned herself in the wings at the same side of the stage as Brian. He was dressed in those black velvet flares again and a narrow fitting blue shirt that was open half way. His hair curled over his collar in shiny black ringlets and his hands glinted with the white nail varnish and silver rings he wore to perform. As soon as they started to play, the whole theatre was filled with a wall of sound, it was electrifying. Freddie was on great form and John twirled and jigged with glee on the opposite side of the drum kit. It was the guitarist that held her attention however, he played his instrument as though it was a delicate and complex scientific process, completely absorbed in the pleasure of creating his unique sound. 

Brian certainly wasn’t your average rock star, his calm persona pervaded everything he did - even in the midst of a heavy rock concert! It was incredibly alluring, the confidence, the control, the total connection to the beautiful sound he made. She wondered whether he showed the same concentration and control in the bedroom….. watching him close his eyes and pull his bottom lip with his teeth during the solo for White Queen made it feel hard to breathe. His strong, bony fingers flickered over the fret board and he had the most distracting habit of tilting his hips to support the guitar during those intense solos - Rose could easily see why the guitar was sometimes referred to as an extension to the penis…. 

She dragged her gaze away from Brian to watch the band working so beautifully together on an extended version of the instrumental section -and caught the wide gaze of Roger bloody Taylor. He had seen her drooling over Brian again and the grin on his face was evil. He threw her a cheeky wink before turning to watch Freddie’s signal from the piano. 

___________________

Backstage, after the encore, everyone was buzzing with the adrenaline of a great performance. Rose was feverishly scribbling her initial impressions of Queen live in her notebook whilst the imagery was still fresh. 

“You couldn’t keep your eyes off him could you?” came the teasing tones of Roger’s voice behind her, “If the clueless bugger could see beyond the end of that long nose of his, he’d be walking round with a hard on every time you turn those fuck me eyes on him.” She continued writing in her book, 

“Roger, I was watching the whole performance - looking at how the four of you work together on stage.” she replied, still not looking at him. He snorted with laughter, taking a long drag on his cigarette before speaking again, “Bollocks, if you’d been looking at me like you were looking at Brian, I’d have had a massive hard on - you’re emotions are pretty easy to read off your face love.” Rose had very deliberately not watched Roger much during the gig - she had the feeling that too much focus on the wild drummer might have had a disastrous effect on her decision to stay on her guard around him. 

He again showed his worrying ability to intuit what she was thinking, “It would have been different watching me though wouldn’t it?” he drawled, “None of that endless standing still and twiddling some tiny strings - drumming’s all sweaty and passionate and physical.” He stubbed out his cigarette, watching her tuck her pencil into the pages of her notebook and finally turn to look at him. He was wearing a black waistcoat with nothing but skin underneath it, she didn’t know where to look, choosing to stare at the wall over his left shoulder. “I don’t know Roger, the guitar is a very attractive instrument…” she said with a raise of her eyebrows, hoping to keep the conversation about the gig.

“That may be,” he replied, dragging a hand through his damp hair, “but let’s face it Rosie, nothing like watching me thrash those drums - cos that would have made you think about what it would be like to be that sweaty and physical with me….. have me so focused on playing you right that it makes my skin hot and…”

Rose could feel herself beginning to react to his words and his presence the same way she had before. He seemed to be able to tap straight into that raw part of her that controlled her desire. 

She had to stop him taking his little story any further - stop his wicked mouth spilling more delicious filth into her ears. Her overheating mind could only come up with one solution - she leant forward and covered his mouth with hers. 

Roger responded instantly; slanting his head to fit their mouths together and wrapping strong arms around her waist - pulling her tightly against his hot torso. She gasped against his mouth.

And, fuck, if it wasn’t the sexiest kiss she’d ever experienced. He kept varying the pressure of his lips against hers - sensitive flesh dragging wetly and the occasional shock of teeth tugging. He broke the kiss - pulling back just enough to look her in the eye - he was so close all she could see were his eyes, framed with unfairly long lashes. It was her who closed the gap between them again, sighing into his mouth as he opened the kiss wider and stroked his tongue over hers for the first time. Her hands were resting weakly on his biceps, feeling the tense muscle from how tightly he was holding her. 

She leant her weight against him and he moaned in the back of his throat, breaking the kiss again to look down at where her breasts were pressed against his chest. Then his eyes were on hers again, watching for her next move. She was able to be honest enough with herself to admit that if he’d picked her up and carried her off somewhere quiet, she would have let him press her against the nearest hard surface and do whatever he wanted. She couldn’t decide if it was fortunate, or unfortunate that he seemed determined to let her set the pace. 

Rose pressed her hands gently against his chest and stepped away from him. He immediately let her go - blue eyes showing disappointment only momentarily, 

‘Not tonight huh?” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow and a smile that made her question her actions for an instant. She opened her mouth to explain but he stopped her with a warm finger against her lips. He kept the contact, running his fingertip along her swollen bottom lip, ‘Hey, you don’t need to explain. Just think how hot it’ll be when you can’t resist it any longer.” He gave her one more trademark grin all teeth and eyes and a hint of tongue before leaving her and heading off to join Freddie and Brian who were both well down a bottle of vodka already. 

___________________________

She’d helped them finish the bottle, so when they finally made it on to the bus ready to head off into the night, her limbs were pleasantly heavy and her insides warm. She stood at the front of the bus, undecided about where to curl up for the next part of the journey. Down at the end of the vehicle, Brian and John were sprawled across the long back seat. Brian hailed her with a wave, “Come sit with us!” he called, patting the middle of the seat between him and the bassist. Rose made her way carefully down the aisle before collapsing, none too elegantly, between the two men. John gave her a tired smile, “Alright?” he asked, she nodded and folded her legs up next to his, toes tucked under his thigh. Brian raised his arm, indicating that she could lean against him. She did so, trying desperately not to make it too obvious that she was breathing in the slightly sweaty man smell of him as she settled her head against his shoulder. He laid his arm down her side, “A rose between two thorns.” he said to no-one in particular, inordinately pleased with his little joke and giggling adorably. Rose squealed internally, he was too much. She was hyper aware of his big, warm hand resting on her hip, the heat spreading into her tummy as she tried to relax enough to drop off to sleep. 

There was a moment’s commotion as Roger and Freddie clattered onto the bus cackling and talking together in exaggerated whispers. ‘Noisy fuckers.” grumbled Brian, he tightened his arm around her and she gave a little hum of agreement, snuggling further into his side as the engine started.


	5. part five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So..................
> 
> there are some naughty parts here.... but it's probably not what you're expecting! All I'll say is that Roger is not making this easy... and is not being a particularly well behaved boy.

Part five

Rose woke the next morning to a still, quiet bus. She sat up slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the bright sunshine slanting through the window. There was a slip of paper lying on the empty seat next to her; ‘We’re in the cafe - join us when you wake up! Bri.’ She ignored the little swoop of sadness in her chest that he wasn’t still holding her against him - he had been quite drunk the previous night after all. 

She made her way into the cafe and slid onto the bench seat next to John. Brian was opposite next to Freddie and gave her a shy smile which she returned, dropping the eye contact immediately with a flutter of nerves. 

“Where’s Roger?” she asked as she poured a mug of tea for herself. John pointed over his shoulder in reply with a wry look on his face. She followed his finger and spotted a tousled blonde head several tables over. He was slumped over a mug with a cigarette drooping from his lips. 

“He’s in a foul mood - I’d ignore him if I were you.” said Brian as he buttered hot toast. Freddie and John sniggered, she looked at Brian questioningly but he refused to meet her gaze. 

“Don’t worry about it darling,” said the singer, “he just needs to get laid - then he’ll be back to his usual charming himself.” Brian rolled his eyes and John took a long suffering sip of tea. “We’re all used to Roger’s moods, dear, the safest course for everyone is to leave him be till he’s snapped himself out of it.” Freddie continued, “and knowing Rog, he’ll snag himself some filly when we get into Pittsburgh tonight and be right as rain for the gig tomorrow.”

Rose didn’t know how she felt about this information so she filed it away and continued with breakfast. Twenty minutes later they were all back on the bus for the last stretch into Pittsburgh. Roger slouched onto the bus last still looking miserable and sat away from the others who started up a game of scrabble. Rose watched from the seat over the aisle, occasionally whispering in John’s ear when she could help. This made Freddie and Brian wild, “That’s it missy, next time we play, you’re on your own - see If you can win then too.” huffed the singer. 

“Well it’s nice to see Brian knocked off his perch for once.” John giggled, very pleased that the two of you had pipped the guitarist to the highest score. 

_______________________________________

That night she watched Queen live with their adoring fans. Right in the middle at the front. It was hot, intense and loud. The experience was incomparable to watching from the side of the stage - she got the full force of the stereo sound, the wall of sound pulsing around her. She also got the full force of Freddie Mercury in full flow - and boy was he good. This band would go far if he kept that up. 

Watching from there also meant, thankfully, that she couldn’t really see Roger behind his drums. Just hearing his voice alternatively rasping or soaring in harmony with Freddie and Brian was enough - particularly coupled with the occasional glimpse of glowing, sweaty limbs and open mouth. She was dismayed that someone so obviously ‘sexy’ had such an effect on her - she always thought herself above such upfront attractions. She looked at the willowy lead guitarist, poised elegantly at the front of the stage piercing the audience’s collective soul with a perfect solo. That is what really spoke to her, made her head and her heart feel something. 

So why did the raw, confident, passionate beauty of the drummer so easily distract her?

Backstage was fizzing with adrenaline that night. She allowed herself to get caught up in the social whirl surrounding Freddie; he was magnetic. Rose was in awe of the persona he put across - all the more so because she had seen the more private side. 

The night came to rather an emotionally confusing end when she next spied Roger. He was wrapped around a girl in the middle of the room - the pair of them unconcerned about being seen. She was extremely pretty, petite with a cloud of dark hair and sharp, intense features. She was also clearly going to let the drummer do whatever he wanted with her. His hands sat low on her waist, one denim clad thigh wedged between hers. She was leaning back in his embrace laughing prettily at everything he said. Roger dipped his mouth towards the girl and kissed her. It was clearly open-mouthed and mainly comprised of tongue. Something curled, hot and tingly in Rose’s tummy. It wasn’t a feeling she could define - was it relief at having the stories of his womanising confirmed? 

She tore her gaze away from them and tried to re-engage with the group conversation around Freddie. The next time she looked over, Roger had backed the girl up against the wall. His narrow hips moving slightly against her as he ran his mouth up her neck. The girl had tipped her head back against the wall, face clearly showing arousal and pleasure. The feeling in Rose’s stomach returned. This time coupled with a flash of heat lower down. Rose was completely unprepared to admit to herself that this was in any way jealousy or desire. She made a hurried goodnight to the others and practically ran the short distance back to the hotel and the quiet sanctity of her room. She forced herself to add to her ‘Queen live’ notes until she felt sleepy enough to rest without fear of her mind picturing what it would be like to be pinned to the wall by Roger’s lean strength. 

________________________________________________

The next morning they were all installed on the bus, her on her own at the back feeling out of sorts due to a restless night of overheated dreams. The boys, apart from Roger, were up the front of the bus having a serious discussion about some technical aspect of last night’s concert. It was early, the sun not quite up yet and the back of the bus was in a welcoming gloom that was helping ease her into the new day. 

“Where the fuck is Roger?” came a disgruntled voice from near the bus door. There was a chorus of grumbles and mutterings before anybody gave a clear answer. 

“He’s still ‘saying goodbye’ to that bird he was with last night.” said another voice which set off another round of complaining. Rose curled up tighter on the back seat and turned to look out of the window. 

And there he was. Standing in a narrow alley between two of the hotel buildings with the bare legs of the pretty girl from last night wrapped round his waist. Rose realised with a jolt that he was screwing her. The girls slender body was bowed between Roger and the wall in exquisite pleasure, her arms crossed behind his neck and head thrown back. His mouth attached to her throat. Rose looked away, heart pounding with embarrassment and… something else…

Hating herself, she looked back out of the window. 

Fuck.

He was looking right at her. Smouldering eyes fixed on her over the shoulders of the girl in his arms. 

Rose couldn’t look away. 

Roger’s expression was unreadable. Eyes heavy, mouth open and pale skin flushed. He ground into the girl in a steady rhythm that was driving them both quickly towards orgasm. The girl was resting her head in the crook of his neck, keeping herself quiet with the back of her hand in her mouth. 

Rose dragged her eyes away from the sinful movement of his hips and up to his face. He was still staring straight at her, now pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he began to lose his rhythm. She was aware of the girl tightening her legs around his waist as her body spasmed in climax but Rose could not look away from Roger. His beautiful eyes dilated in gratification; he kept his gaze fixed on her as his hips stuttered into the girl pinned on his cock. It looked like he was biting his lip hard enough to break the skin. Rose realised she was mirroring the action, her lip swollen and stinging between her teeth. There was no way she could ignore the effect that an orgasmic Roger Taylor had on her body. She felt tense and sensitive all over. 

Their eyes stayed locked onto each other until he came, eyes closing in ecstasy, mouth open in a little ‘o’ of fulfilment. Rose shut her eyes, not wanting to see any post-orgasmic moment of intimacy between Roger and the girl. 

Her mind was still whirring over what it all meant, his reaction to seeing her, her reaction to him. Her body feeling so on edge, her heart still pounding in her chest. 

“Here he is!” crowed someone at the front of the bus. A sarcastic round of applause rippled through the bus. Rose looked up to see a clearly fucked out Roger raise his hand in acknowledgement to the good natured jeering that met his appearance. 

“Was she really good enough to keep us waiting Rog?” asked Freddie, shaking his head at the blonde. 

“What can I say?” Roger replied with a smirk, “I can’t help being so irresistible.”

He looked down the length of the bus and caught Rose’s eye. No words were needed, but his message was clear; it could have been her.

He wanted it to be her.


	6. chapter 6

Chapter 6

After the Chicago gig, there was a lull in the touring schedule for two days and Rose took the opportunity to get some space from the band. She wrote some rough copy for her editor in London and wired it to him, she wrote to her parents and managed to get a call in to her sister back at home. 

She absolutely did not spend most of the time trying to banish thoughts of Roger Meddows Taylor from her mind. Hell - even lying to herself about it was becoming impossible. 

A couple of days without seeing him was doing her good; by the evening of the second day she was back to her normal self and felt ready for the next stage of the journey. She had wanted to visit St Louis and the amazing Gateway Arch built in the last decade. The Chicago - St Louis leg wasn’t too lengthy and they planned to drive through the night. 

Rose set herself up on the bus with her notebook and a thermos of tea, planning to catch up on some notes for her political story that would be due when she got back to England. As the engine started and the bus pulled out onto the highway, a familiar figure slid into the seat next to her. 

“I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.” said Roger, settling himself in the seat. She started to protest but he continued, “You’ve got all these notes from Deacy and Brian, and I know you’ve grilled Fred about vocals and shit. When’s my turn?”

The reason for her not having interviewed him was clear as day to both of them but there was no way they could bring it up in the broad light of day or in the close atmosphere of the bus. Rose didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t looking at her, instead his gaze was hidden behind sunglasses as he leant back in the bus seat. She could do this, she told herself sternly, he had clearly put their kiss and the - incident - in Pittsburgh behind him so she could too. 

“Ok Mr Drummer Boy,” she said, opening her note book and turning to him, pencil poised. “How about you start by explaining to me what on earth you’re actually doing when you tune a drum kit.”

His answering smile was wide and genuine. He was so easy to talk to, warm and open. She quickly forgot any awkwardness and became engrossed in his explanations and stories. His expressive hands illustrated points in the air in front of them, she made copious notes and asked unending questions. 

Roger Taylor was certainly a bit of an enigma; his pretty boy, rock star persona and notorious bad behaviour were such a sharp contrast to the razor sharp intelligence and shrewd judgement of people. He had, she noted with approval, some pretty left-wing political views and they spent an enjoyable half hour discussing the state of American politics as well as the current UK government. 

“You see, Jimmy Callaghan is doing a great job,” said Roger thoughtfully, “but Wilson was just, you know - well he’s a bit of a personal hero of mine to be honest.” He glanced at Rose who couldn’t contain a smile, 

“Mine too - such a man of the people, a great Prime Minister and a real socialist champion.” she replied feeling her liking for the drummer growing by the minute. The articulate, knowledgable, university graduate components of his personality somehow made the rock star even sexier….

She dragged her thoughts sharply away from that last thought as the bus pulled into a stop. Roger gave her a cheeky smile and stood up, “See, there’s more to me than being a great lay.” He didn’t wait for her reaction but turned and sauntered casually off the bus and out into the evening light. Rose stared after him, mouth almost hanging open in astonishment. He never failed to remind her of all the reasons she’d decided she needed to keep clear. Shaking her head, she packed her things away and made her way outside, stretching luxuriously after the long time spent sitting. 

_____________________

The St Louis show was electric. The band seemed to be getting better and better the more they played. Louder, smoother and more glamorous with each show. Rose let them party without her that night and went to a local bar with some fans she had met whilst watching the show. She was keen to get another viewpoint for her article. She spoke to a wide range of people; teenage girls (mostly in love with Roger), older guys who really appreciated the heavy rock edge to Queen and everyone in between. 

They had a free day before moving on to Indianapolis and all chose to spend it doing different things. By the early evening, Rose had walked miles and had her fill of site seeing. She returned to their hotel and freshened up before heading to the bar where she collected a gin and tonic. The bar was quiet, only a few small groups of people talking quietly round tables and a handful of single souls enjoying the peace and quiet. 

One of these was Brian, his long legs stretched out under the table and a bottle of white wine open in front of him. He was reading a book and seemed lost to the world. Rose almost felt bad for interrupting him but she couldn’t resist having him to herself for a little while. 

“Mind if I join you?” she asked with a hopeful smile. He looked up and closed his book immediately. 

“Please do!” he replied, scooting further into the horseshoe shaped sofa he occupied. She shuffled in next to him, carefully placing her glass on the table, 

“Where are the others?” she asked, “I’m surprised there’s not another party - this is a pretty swish hotel.”

He explained that John and Roger were out at some rally car meet and Freddie had discovered a club in the city that he’d dragged a select group of their crew along to.

“And I’m here with a bottle of very nice white and now someone to share it with.” he finished, signalling to the barman that they needed another wine glass. 

“You honestly don’t mind me butting in?” Rose asked. His smile was as breathtaking as ever, 

“You know I love talking to you Rose.” he assured her in that earnest voice of his. She couldn’t help the faint flush that spread over her cheeks. They chatted about books and the evening slipped by most pleasingly. 

 

__________________________

 

As Brian shared out the last of the bottle, Rose realised she was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Nowhere near drunk enough to impair judgement, but inhibitions lowered slightly. Enough to allow her to close the distance between them a little, narrowing the world to their own private little bubble. He seemed completely at ease with their closeness, angling himself towards her so they could continue talking. 

They reached for their glasses at exactly the same moment, fingers brushing. The contact stopped them both in their tracks. She curled her fingers around the stem of her glass, taking a sip before raising her eyes back to him. 

His gaze was steady, intense. The silence stretched between them. 

“You really are very beautiful you know.” he said softly. Rose looked down at her lap, insides twisting with nerves or excitement. Brian’s warm hand touched her gently under her chin, drawing her back up to look at him. He cupped her face, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone. 

“So are you.’ she whispered, biting her lip. He smiled ruefully, hand still on her skin. 

His hazel eyes clearly showed the war of emotions running through his mind. He knew she knew about Chrissy. She knew he knew about her kissing Roger. 

The next few moments seemed to run in slow motion to Rose. He shifted closer to her on the seat. His hand ran down her side and came to rest in the small of her back, radiating heat though her clothes. Her fingers carding through his hair as they leant closer, eyes fluttering shut. 

And then they were kissing. Soft, sweet, gentle brushes of mouth against mouth. They pulled back minutely, her eyes staying closed. She heard him exhale audibly, felt the corresponding rush of breath against her lips. Opening he eyes, she saw his clear, sensitive gaze focus on her. She saw the question in their hazel depths, and he must have read the answer in her eyes. With the smallest of smiles, he sealed his mouth over hers again. The kiss deeper this time. His tongue drawing a breathy moan from her lips which he answered with his own. 

She didn’t know how long it went on. Only that it was heavenly and sending her desire spiralling through the roof. Brian’s hands stayed on her back or in her hair, hers running over his shoulders, into his curls and down his long back. He pulled her even closer, teeth gently nipping at her lower lip. Her answering gasp made him smile into the kiss, his right hand travelling up her side to cover her breast. He ran his thumb over her nipple, it hardened instantly making her whine into his mouth. 

The sound brought Brian to his senses. He tore his mouth from hers, putting a foot of empty space between them on the sofa. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” he said, as much to himself as to her. He looked at her, brow furrowed with emotion, “I’m sorry Rose… I… “ He looked so anguished she couldn’t bear it. Guilt, desire and embarrassment heating her skin, 

“I’ll go, I’m sorry I should never have…” she babbled, shuffling along the sofa and starting to stand. He reached out and easily caught her wrist. 

“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who’s not free… I just… you’re so lovely and I…” she stopped him with a finger to his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Please don’t,” she whispered, “Let’s just leave it like this, one perfect kiss.” 

He smiled sadly against her finger, lips pursing in a small kiss to her skin before he took her hand in his. “Thank you.” he said quietly, squeezing her hand, “I don’t deserve that”. She pulled her hand away and stood, needing to put distance between them before she couldn’t help climbing onto his lap. 

Rose walked slowly from the bar, turning back once to see her beautiful guitarist watching her wistfully from the sofa. Her lips still tingling from his kiss, her body still warm and needy from the effect he had on her. 

She reached the lobby and pressed the call button for the lift. A large party of tourists had just arrived back at the hotel and joined her by the lifts. She stepped into the small space with them, moving over to the far corner where there was space. She turned around as the lift doors began to shut. 

“Hold the door!” called a voice as the girl nearest the buttons started pressing all the floors required. There was a slight commotion as the unseen late arrival squeezed into the crowded lift. 

“Thanks mate.” said the voice again; raspy, confident, British. Rose looked through the small crowd to meet twinkling, blue eyes. The last person she could deal with in her current state. 

“Rosie!” Roger shouldered his way through until he was standing inches from her at the back of the lift. “Fancy meeting you here!” he grinned as the lift started to move, causing him to stumble even closer to her. She could feel warmth radiating off him and smell cigarettes and whisky. It did nothing to help calm her down. 

“Hello.” she replied, not quite managing to meet his gaze; her fingers drawn self consciously to her lower lip which she knew must be red and swollen from kissing Brian for so long. Roger frowned, eyes following her finger as it ran along her mouth. His own lips curving into a wicked grin as realisation dawned on him. 

His raised his hand, allowing the tip of his thumb to follow the track of her finger along her sensitive skin. 

“You’ve been kissing!” he whispered, eyes glittering. “and it was good if the way you look is anything to go by.” His eye took in her dilated pupils, swollen mouth and pebbled nipples showing through her shirt. He stepped even closer to her, making her crave contact but not giving it to her. 

“Poor Rosie, all worked up aren’t you hmm?” he crooned, pressing his thumb gently against her bottom lip. “Gonna let me help you out?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!! Sorry to leave y'all at that exact moment.... I can't help but be a little mean. 
> 
> I know Brian and Rose are naughty in this - they know they're not free to be kissing - but I hope you can forgive them,

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER Obviously this is pure fantasy- not intended to be taken seriously at all.
> 
> Sooooooo.......
> 
> I haven’t written fic for YEARS - since some Harry Potter stuff but this movie has tipped me right back into it...
> 
> I’d love to have some feedback 🤗


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